A Bottle of Wine
by ltjvt1026
Summary: ACTION FIC. Tony stops for a bottle of wine. Chapter 3 has been added. Short summary I know, but R&R anyway.
1. Conditions

**Disclaimer: NCIS is copyrighted material. I am NOT the copyright holder. I'm just a guy scribbling in his den or at work amusing himself and maybe others. No infringement is meant.**

**Authors Note: **I was at work last night, hoping to start writing a Mike story. But my partner was in the mood to tell war stories. He's retired from the Dept. of Corrections. We started talking about guns and gunfights. In twenty nine years, I'd never shot anyone (Thank God). But I carried a pistol and was prepared to prevail if need be. In 1982, I'd been on the Job for four years. I worked on a department with 80 sworn officers in North Jersey. Our training budget was just enough to have the mandated twice yearly Firearms Qualifications. Needless to say I was not happy with this. So spending my own money I went out to Arizona and attended one of the premiere pistol schools in the country. Gunsite Ranch, run by Col. Jeff Cooper (USMC Ret.). What I learned there I carried with me for my entire career. It made me more confident in my ability to use my weapon and master any situation. The following story is based on a training run we did at the school.

**Technical Notes:**

**Color codes of danger: **Based on a system used by the USMC during WWII in the Pacific. Taught by Gunsite during the classroom phase of training.

**Condition White:** No perception of danger. Totally unaware and unprepared. Caught in this condition, you're going to get hammered.

**Condition Yellow:** Relaxed Awareness. You are aware of what and especially _who_ is around you. You are not actively looking for danger but know it can come up. A normal well adjusted person can remain in this condition for his entire waking life.

**Condition Orange: **Unspecified Alert. There is reason to expect an as yet unknown danger. Something is not as it should be in your world.

**Condition Red: **Armed Encounter. You have come across a dangerous individual bent on harming you. You'll draw your weapon and take the appropriate measures.

**Some thoughts from Jeff Cooper on guns and gunfighting:**

"_Remember the first rule of gunfighting…'have a gun'"_

"_Owning a handgun doesn't make you armed any more than owning a guitar makes you a musician"_

"_The will to survive is not as important as the will to prevail"_

**Liquor store, Suburban Washington, DC Late Saturday Morning**

**Yellow**

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo pulled his car into the strip mall parking lot. He needed a bottle of wine. His partner Ziva David was coming for dinner later and Tony was out of wine. He could have walked to the store, but it was Saturday and Tony was feeling lazy.

As he got out of his car Tony glanced around the parking lot. Couple of cars, no foot traffic. Tony's local liquor store sat between a tattoo parlor and a nail salon. It was run by a husband and wife who had emigrated from Bosnia. The front of the store was plastered with advertisements. The only clear glass was the door. Tony had told the owners that obscuring the windows was not a good idea. They smiled and nodded, but the windows were still covered.

Approaching the door, Tony unconsciously unzipped his jacket. This allowed him access to the Sig in the shoulder holster under his left arm. Normally Tony did not carry when making a short run like this. Shopping at this particular store however made him nervous. Tony pulled open the door.

**Orange**

As he entered, Tony's eyes swept the store. The aisles ran towards him back to front. On the left wall were the cold boxes containing beer, wine, and soda. The counter with the cash register was to the right. At the end of the aisle in front of him was a waist high cold box containing bottled water. It was an old style box with thick metal sides.

Behind the counter, instead of the owner or his wife was a neatly dressed white male wearing a leather jacket. Tony smiled.

"Morning, nice day huh?"

The guy grunted but said nothing further. Tony's heart started thumping. In the years he had been coming to the store, he'd never seen anyone other than the owner and/or his wife behind the counter. Something was up.

The wine he was looking for was down the aisle in front of him. At the end of this aisle was the door to the rear storeroom. The door swung open and a black male with a revolver in his hand stepped out.

"Hey Richie, They're…….

**Red**

At FLETC, the firearms instructors had always said "The immediate threat is the first one to go". Back Room Guy qualified. Tony took two steps into the aisle, drawing his Sig. This broke "Richie's" line of sight. Back Room Guy was raising his revolver.

"FEDERAL AGENT, DROP YOUR WEAPON!"

It was automatic. It never worked.

As the front sight of Tony's Sig steadied on target, he squeezed off two rounds. Back Room Guy went down hard, the revolver dropping to the floor.

Gunshots from Tony's right shattered liquor bottles, the snap of a close round passing made Tony crouch down.

Through the ringing in his ears, Tony heard what he thought were shuffling noises that sounded like they were headed for the rear of the store. Still crouching Tony moved to the front of the aisle. Now came the part that's the reason he got paid the big bucks. He'd have to make a hard left turn and confront "Richie" before he made it to the back room door.

DiNozzo took a deep breath and made the turn.

"Richie" was just clearing the end of the counter. His weapon, a blue steel semi-auto was up. They fired simultaneously. "Richie's" round shattered a bottle of rum, showering Tony with broken glass and alcohol. Tony's two rounds hit the gunman dead center, flipping him backwards.

Fight over.

It had taken exactly two minutes and twenty seconds from the time Tony opened the door to "Richie" hitting the floor. All because Tony was out of wine.

**A/N: **Of course out in Arizona this was done in a tire walled "killing house" with plywood partitions and pop up "thug targets". I passed. In the show and a lot of times in fan fiction, Tony is portrayed as a goof. But before he was a Fed, he was a cop for eight or nine years. I am just trying to show he's a professional. How'd I do?


	2. Afterword

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**Authors Note: **This was only supposed to be one chapter, but **M E Wofford** wants to know "The Rest of the Story". So here it is. Wouldn't want to piss off "The Fan" (shudders).

**Afterword**

By the time Senior Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs reached the scene, Tony was sitting on the back step of an ambulance having glass shards removed from the left side of his face and neck. The owner and his wife were okay. They had been duct taped in the back room. Gibbs stopped in front of his Senior Field Agent.

"Our first Saturday off in three weeks and _this_ is how ya spend it?"

Tony smiled thinly.

"Not my idea, Boss. Blame "Richie" and his buddy."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"The Metro dicks say that Richard "Richie" Tobias and his buddy, John Tyler got out of MCI Walpole in Massachusetts five days ago. From stuff they found in their stolen car they were gonna rob their way to Florida. They've been hitting liquor and convenience stores from Mass to here."

Gibbs nodded.

"Since this was a shooting in Metro's jurisdiction and there's no Navy involvement, other than you, they're handling this one. Make sure you do the Agent Involved Shooting paperwork first thing Monday."

DiNozzo shot his boss a grateful grin.

"Will do, Boss."

"They takin' you to the ER DiNozzo?"

"Hell no Boss. _Troy_, here is being kind enough to remove some glass from my face and neck and I'm going home."

A Metro PD detective walked up.

"That'll be after you come down to the district and give a detailed statement Agent DiNozzo."

"And then get checked out by Ducky" added Gibbs.

Tony groaned.

_All this crap for a lousy bottle of wine._

**A/N: **'Kay, now the story's done. Thanks to the usual suspects who have reviewed so far. What about the rest of you guys and gals? C'mon you know you want to say something. Hit that green button and let it fly.


	3. Dinner

**Disclaimer: See the preceding chapters. It's all there.**

**Authors Note: **First let me say I've been gratified by your response to this story. That said, this is the last chapter. This baby was supposed to be a one chapter deal. It grew into two and now three. I tied everything up neatly I hope. To all my regulars (and you know who you are) thanks for coming back. To all the new people who read this story, thanks for trying me out. If you liked this story and you haven't reviewed please do so. Like all authors I love the feedback. So without further ado here's the last chapter. Enjoy.

**Metropolitan PD District 3 Robbery/Homicide Squad Room**

Special Agent Anthony Dinozzo sat, drumming his fingers on the desk. He was waiting for his paperwork to be approved by the Watch Commander of the R/H Unit. After the paramedic had gotten all the glass out of Tony, he'd come here and given his statement. Then he'd met with the Officer Involved Shooting team. Then he'd done all of the paperwork that goes with firing your weapon in the line of duty. Now he was waiting.

As Tony shifted in the chair, his cell started to vibrate. He checked the screen. Abby. Tony groaned.

_This is gonna go well. Not._

"DiNozzo."

"TONY. Are you okay? One of my forensic buddies from Metro called me and said an NCIS agent was involved in a liquor store shoot out and I called Gibbs and he said it was you and he was going to the scene, then he called me back and said you were okay but you had a lot of paperwork and stuff to do. I held off as long as I could and what were you doing in a liquor store in the morning anyway and…"

"Abs, ABBY. Take a breath."

"Sorry."

"No problem. I'm okay. Waiting for my paperwork to clear. I was getting a bottle of wine for dinner tonight."

"Oh, hot date?"

"Well, not exactly. Ziva's coming over. Dinner and maybe a movie or two."

Abby squealed.

"Ooooh, that is so coool."

"Down, Abs. Listen the watch commander is comin' this way. I'll see you on Monday."

"You better spill all the gory details then, Mister."

Tony laughed.

"Okay, Abby. And don't you call Ziva, you hear. I'll tell her all about this when I see her."

"But Tony…"

"No 'buts', missy."

"Okay. I'm glad you're okay Tony."

Tony's face softened.

"Thanks Abby. Gotta go. See ya."

The watch commander walked up.

"Your paperwork is approved, Special Agent DiNozzo. Good job. Our ME is going to post your two playmates on Monday at around 1300 if you're interested."

The watch commander paused.

"I also have a message for you from Special Agent Gibbs. 'Don't forget to go see Ducky'."

Tony sighed.

"Okay Captain. I got it. Thanks for the hospitality."

The captain stuck out his hand.

'No problem. Enjoy the rest of your day."

**Dr. Mallard's house**

"Everything looks fine dear boy."

Dr. Donald 'Ducky' Mallard was closely examining the various cuts on the side of Tony's face and neck.

"Just keep them clean and be careful shaving."

"Thanks, Ducky. If we're done, I gotta go. I still have to pick up a bottle of wine and some bread for dinner."

Dr. Mallard raised an eyebrow.

"Ziva's coming over and I was out of her favorite wine. That's why I was at the liquor store."

Ducky's face brightened.

"Anthony, I think I can be of some assistance."

Ducky left the room leaving a puzzled DiNozzo behind. A few minutes later the good doctor returned bearing two bottles of wine.

"Ducky, how did…"

"Oh, the last time we had a get together I bought a few bottles. These are what are left."

Ducky handed over the bottles.

"Let me pay you Du…."

"Nonsense, dear boy. Be off. Have a good evening."

**Tony's apartment**

Luckily Tony had made the lasagna he was serving for dinner prior to going to the liquor store. All he would need to do was put it in the oven and make up a salad. As the oven warmed up Tony straightened up his apartment and set the table.

As he slid the lasagna into the oven, the door bell rang.

"C'MON IN. IT'S UNLOCKED!"

Tony looked around the edge of the kitchen doorway as Ziva sauntered into his apartment carrying a bottle of wine.

_Now if I'da known that was gonna happen, it would have saved a whole helluva a lot of aggravation._

"Hey, Zi. Bring the wine in here and I'll put it in the fridge."

As Ziva came towards the kitchen, Tony took in her outfit. She was wearing an emerald green blouse and black form fitting jeans.

_Damn._

When Ziva came into the kitchen, Tony tried to keep the left side of his face away from her. It worked for all of thirty seconds.

"Tony, what happened to your face?"

"Cut myself shaving. Ya know I shouldn't really shave when I'm hung ov…"

As he was talking Ziva stepped into his personal space and gently took hold of his chin.

"Those are not shaving cuts. They are from shards of glass. Since your car is in one piece, you did not have a car accident. So what happened?"

She was looking at him with that ninja look. The one that could cut thru any bullshit story he could try. So he told her. When he was done she punched him in the arm. _Hard._

"OW, Ziva. What was that for?"

"You should have called me."

"Well, I would have, except I was a little busy. Guys with guns shooting at me and all."

Ziva punched him again.

"After"

"OW. Okay, I get it. Listen I was gonna see you anyway, so I figured why ruin your Saturday."

Ziva raised her fist again.

"Tony…"

"Okay, okay. Next time I'll call. Jeez."

After a while the salad was tossed, the lasagna came out of the oven and they were at the table. Tony was finally feeling relaxed. A couple of glasses of wine and a beautiful woman opposite helped.

Tony portioned out the food and poured them both another glass of wine.

Ziva raised hers and they clinked glasses.

"I'm glad you're okay."

Tony had had such a shitty day and she set him up so beautifully, he couldn't resist. He got on his best Bogart.

"Here's looking at you kid."

**A/N: **That's it folks. All you TIVA fans out there are gonna have to use your imaginations from here out. Which shouldn't be too much of a problem should it? Thanks again for reading. Now hit the green button and make the cycle complete.


End file.
